


12th Century France

by WarnerHedgehog



Series: Brian and Eric [3]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arthur - Freeform, Balladeer, Excalibur, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarnerHedgehog/pseuds/WarnerHedgehog
Summary: As well as the worlds of James Bond and Jane Austen, Brian and Eric poked their beaks into Arthurian legend. Sort of.





	

Brian and Eric were sat in a cottage in 12th century rural France, composing ballads and stories. They were currently doing some King Arthur stuff for balladeer Robert de Boron.

"What about the Sword in the Butter?" pondered Eric.

"Butter? Are you completely loopy?" spouted an exasperated Brian.

"What's wrong with butter?" asked Eric, "Butter is brilliant: trust me."

"You've got a butter brain," grumbled Brian, "That's stupid. How about sticking the sword in a cave guarded by an angry, water-breathing heron?"

There was a knock on the door and Robert de Boron himself casually walked in. "Hi guys, how's it hangin'? Hows the Arthur thing going?"

"Well, we've given him a magic sword called" Eric picked up a scrap of paper and squinted at it, "Ex...cal...i...bert, but we reckon old Artie-boy has to perform some sort of deed to get his paws on it. We're stuck on the actual deed though. I reckon it's magically stuck in something and only the rightful owner can get it, and candyfloss-face here thinks it's a get-the-thing-from-the-cave situation."

"I like the magically stuck angle. That cave lark's been done to death." mused Robert. "Whatcha done about the details?"

Eric gave Brian a smug grin, "Well, I was thinking having it jammed in an enormous tub of yak's butter, but Brian thinks that's stupid."

"He's right, it is." agreed Robert, causing Brian to blow a raspberry at Eric, "How about a stone instead? Some mad King has magically rammed the sword into a chuffing great rock and only the, errm, chosen one can remove it. Tell you what, we can make a gala competition out of things: lots of bunting, boozing and carousing, y'know, the whole duck's beak."

"Like it, like it," wittered Brian, "lots of people try to pull it out, but only our boy can do it cos he's _special_. Yeah, we can make it a big old flags-and-bunting pageantry affair. We could even chuck in a burger stand and a drinks tent."

"Alright, I agree. That really works," capitulated Eric, "That's earned us all a drink. I'm buying."

Robert and Brian nodded and with that they all went out for an evening of alcohol and debauchery, and spent the following two nights in the cells for being drunk and disorderly, thus being the unwitting subjects of Chaucer's infamous Pubbe Gagge.


End file.
